


Beneath the Surface

by WinchesterNovak



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes is a drama queen, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Kissing Lessons, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Pre-Captain America: The First Avenger, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-TFA, Skinny!Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-22 02:37:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8269489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinchesterNovak/pseuds/WinchesterNovak
Summary: “I have to know how to kiss by seven. Someone has to teach me,” Bucky murmurs. Steve waits for him to say something else, but no more words are forthcoming. He looks up from the paper, to see Bucky looking at him. It takes him a moment to realise what Bucky’s idea is.

  “Oh, no; I already told you I don’t know anything about kissing, Bucky,” Steve argues.“Please, Steve. I don’t have time to find anyone else. And I can’t embarrass myself in front of Anna!” Steve sighs.“I am not kissing you.” 
  The thought of doing so made his heart thump in his chest with nerves. What if his mother walked in on them? What would they even begin to tell her that she’d believe? Even worse, what if he didn’t mind kissing Bucky?He looked at Bucky, again, and sighed.“Fine."





	

It’s a perfectly normal day when everything changes. It starts as they walk home from their afternoon shifts at the factory. They’re both tired from the combination of school and work, and it’s a warm summer’s evening.

They reach the Rogers’ apartment within a few minutes of getting off the bus. They greet the elderly neighbour coming back from the grocery store on the corner, and offer to help with her packages. She thanks them, but her son is already inside with the first few bags. They wish each other a good evening and Steve unlocks the apartment. Bucky’s around so often that the neighbours treat him as their own. He might as well live here, he muses.

Mrs Rogers isn’t back from her shift at the hospital, yet. Steve unpacks the groceries left on the counter in her haste this morning. Once he’s done, they flop down on the bed in his room. Steve’s already sitting cross-legged on top of the blankets with his sketchbook in his lap and a pencil in his hand before Bucky’s even toed his shoes off.

They sit in a comfortable silence for a minute or two, no sound but the pencil scratching out Steve’s design and the cars rushing past three floors below. Bucky watches as the lines he creates weave into a picture. He recognises it as the factory they work in.

He watches contently as Steve draws. It’s always an interesting process. Bucky’s not much of an artist himself. His drawings always look like a mess on the page, and he’s never found inspiration in everyday life the way Steve does. He envies it sometimes. He finally breaks the silence.

“I have a date tonight,” he informs Steve, proudly. Steve looks up from his drawing, momentarily, to raise an eyebrow again.  
“Cynthia again? Or Janet?” he asks. Bucky grins wolfishly, and Steve can’t help but think he’s not going to like the answer.  
“I haven’t been out with Cynthia or Janet in _months_. No, I’m taking Anna Clarke out.” Steve looks up from his page again, both eyebrows receding into his hairline.  
“As in your neighbour, Anna Clarke? What happens if it doesn’t work out?” he asks. Bucky shrugs.  
“What does it matter?” Steve rolls his eyes at the comment.  
“How does your mother still think you’re a gentleman? Honestly, the amount of girls you’ve been on dates with in the past month is ridiculous,” he murmurs, returning to his drawing with a shake of the head.

“Whoever told you I tell my mother everything I do was lying, pal.” Steve sighs.  
“Of course you don’t tell your mother. She probably thinks you’re going steady with Cynthia or Janet or Susan,” his tone is disbelieving, but there’s a teasing edge to it.  
“It’s not my fault we don’t click like I’m expecting us to.”  
“Never said it was, Buck. Anyway, if you didn’t tell me about these other girls you’ve been seeing since Cynthia and Janet-”  
“Well, there was Jennifer, Julia, Christina-”  
“Okay, I don’t need a list – why are you telling me about Anna?”

There’s silence for a moment. Steve looks up from the curved line of the roof he’s currently drawing. There’s a pink tinge to Bucky’s cheeks, something he hasn’t seen since they were kids and Bucky’s mom caught them stealing the last of her cookies. He raises an eyebrow and Bucky sighs.

“Usually when I walk them home, they give me a kiss on the cheek and that’s the end of that. Anna tried to _actually_ kiss me last time I took her out. I only just managed to avoid it; there’s no _way_ I can get around it this time,” Bucky concludes. He looks so helpless; Steve struggles not to laugh. He manages to suppress it with a smile instead.  
“I don’t see the problem. If you don’t want to kiss her, why are you taking her out again?” Steve’s voice waivers slightly on the last syllable, unable to stop the light chuckle that escapes.

Bucky glares at him.  
“This is serious, Steve.” Steve rolls his eyes again, lowering his gaze back to his drawing. Bucky doesn’t normally go on second dates. If he doesn’t like the girl, he doesn’t bother. So Steve doesn’t understand what he’s stressed about.  
“It doesn’t _sound_ very serious. Not wanting to kiss a girl has never stopped you from deciding not to go on a second date before. Tell her you’ve changed your mind, if you don’t want to see her,” he adds with a shrug.  
“It’s not that I don’t want to see her.”  
“Then what?” By this point, some exasperation has crept into Steve’s voice.

Silence falls over the room again. It’s awkward this time. Steve looks up from his drawing again. It’s never been awkward between them before, and he doesn’t know what to make of that. He watches a Bucky twists his fingers around the loose thread in the blanket, again and again. Finally, he sighs.

“I’ve never kissed anyone before, and I don’t want to look like an idiot,” he admits. Steve has to stifle his laughter, again.  
“You’ll be fine, Buck. It’s supposed to be second nature, isn’t it?”  
“According to Bill, anyway, yeah.” Steve rolls his eyes at the comment.  
“You’ll be _fine_ , Buck,” he repeats.  
“No, I won’t. I’m going to make a complete fool of myself! If I kiss her, she’ll know I’ve never kissed anyone before and if I don’t, she’ll think I’m not interested in her!” he wails, covering his face with his hands.  
“Why don’t you just _tell her_ you haven’t kissed anyone before? I’m sure she’ll understand,” Steve suggests. Bucky finally looks at him.  
“Then she’ll _tell_ everyone. No one’ll go out with me if they know I haven’t kissed anyone.” Steve turns away to roll his eyes. Bucky can be dramatic sometimes. He’s not sure whether it’s something that rubbed off on him, or that Bucky picked up from him.  
“So what are you going to do, then? You won’t kiss her unless it’s not your first kiss. You won’t tell her why you won’t kiss her, in case she tells someone else.”

Bucky thinks for a moment. Steve shades one of the lines on the page, absent-mindedly while he waits for an answer.  
“Do you know anything about it?” he asks, hopefully.  
“Bucky, there isn’t a girl in the entire state of New York who wants to kiss me. I know even less about it than you do, probably.” As an afterthought, he adds, “Why don’t you ask Bill or Andrew? I’m sure they’ve kissed a few girls.” As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he knows they were the wrong thing to say.  
“They’ll never let it go if they have to teach me to kiss!” Steve sighs.  
“Your mom or dad? They’d know for sure.” He’s running out of ideas, and Bucky knows it, too.  
“If I’m kissing girls, they’ll want to meet her with all the formal crap. We’ve only been out twice, and they’ll be expecting a marriage proposal within the month.”  
“You’re in high school, Buck. I doubt they’ll go that far.”  
“The _equivalent_ of a marriage proposal, then,” he corrects himself, irritation creeping into his voice.

“So, what are you going to do?” Steve repeats, shading his drawing with more concentration this time. He knows that in about five minutes, Bucky will have come up with some absolutely ridiculous idea and will rush out of the room, potentially dragging Steve with him.

“I have to know how to kiss by seven. Someone has to teach me,” Bucky murmurs. Steve waits for him to say something else, but no more words are forthcoming. He looks up from the paper, to see Bucky looking at him. It takes him a moment to realise what Bucky’s idea is.

“Oh, no; I already told you I don’t know anything about kissing, Bucky,” Steve argues.  
“Please, Steve. I don’t have time to find anyone else. And I can’t embarrass myself in front of Anna!” Steve sighs.  
“I am _not_ kissing you.”

The thought of doing so made his heart thump in his chest with nerves. What if his mother walked in on them? What would they even _begin_ to tell her that she’d believe? Even worse, what if he didn’t _mind_ kissing Bucky?

He looked at Bucky, again, and sighed.  
“Fine. Let me close the curtains and the door so no one gets the wrong idea.” He put his sketchbook to the side, drew the curtains and closed his door. “You owe me. Big,” he adds as they stand awkwardly close in the darkened room.  
“I know. I promise I’ll make it up to you,” Bucky promises.

They stand for a minute, not speaking or moving.  
“So how do we do this?” Steve finally asks. His heart is thumping painfully now, and he can’t understand why. He supposes it’s nerves. Even if he’s taken all measures he can, there’s still the fear that someone will find out.

“Doesn’t the girl usually put her hands on the guy’s neck?” Bucky suggests. As he speaks, he moves Steve’s hand to the back of his neck, resting it just beneath the base of his skull. “And the guy usually rests his hands on her waist.” His hands rest on Steve’s hips and Steve’s heart beats faster, if at all possible. At least it shouldn’t be too unlike kissing a girl for Bucky. There’s almost a foot of difference in their heights.

There’s a moment of silence – neither comfortable nor awkward, just smothering – as they just stand there. Then, Bucky dips his head and presses his lips to Steve’s. Steve snaps his eyes shut, instinctively, and they stand there, unmoving.

“I think there’s more to it than this, Buck,” Steve murmurs, voice muffled against his lips. Even with his eyes closed, he knows that Bucky has an eyebrow raised. Slowly, Bucky begins to move his lips against Steve’s. And, at first, Steve freezes up. He knows this is what kissing should feel like. But he’s not meant to be _enjoying_ this.

Gradually, he regains movement of himself, and begins to move his own lips. If he’s helping Bucky learn to kiss, he needs to make it seem like he’s actually kissing a girl.

There’s a perfect synchronisation that he supposes comes from knowing each other so well. But it doesn’t explaining the hammering of his heart against his ribcage, so hard and fast it almost hurts, and makes him feel sick with nerves. He’s starting to think that maybe he should pull away, before he has too much to think about, but Bucky’s grip on his hips tighten.

His eyes snap open and focus on Bucky’s closed eyelids. He watches and waits for Bucky to loosen his grip, or pull away, or both, but he doesn’t. So Steve closes his eyes again. He decides to stop thinking, and let’s himself enjoy it, consequences be damned.

He moves his other hand so that it’s resting slightly above the other on the back of Bucky’s neck. He twists his fingers through the short hairs there. For a moment, he half expects Bucky to pull back, tell him he’s gone too far, crossed an invisible line. But he doesn’t.

They stay like that until the front door bangs shut, indicating Mrs Rogers’ arrival home. They jump apart, as though afraid she’ll know what they’re doing, even though she can’t see them. Steve straightens his shirt, now rumpled slightly at the waist, and Bucky pushes his hair down.

“Steve, I’m home!” Mrs Rogers calls. Steve wrenches the curtains open, and tries not to look guilty. Their lips are swollen from the kissing, but she probably won’t notice. Even if she does, Steve doubts she’d even suspect why.  He exchanges a look with Bucky, his heart still beating hard from both the kiss and almost being caught, and he smiles. Things aren’t awkward, thank God, Steve thinks, as they leave the room.

“How was your shift at the hospital, Mrs Rogers?” Bucky asks her as way of greeting.  
“Good, thank you. There’s a cycle of tuberculosis going through at the moment. Three of the nurses I work with have already caught it so I’m going to take a bath before I touch anything,” she concludes. She pauses on the way to the bathroom.  
“Are you staying for dinner, dear?” she adds, with a warm smile. It’s a question that normally doesn’t need asking. But the answer is different, for once.  
“No thank you, Mrs Rogers. I have a date.” Her eyes crinkle at the corners.  
“Your mother said you were seeing someone. I hope you have a good time.”  
“Thank you, ma’am.”

Once the door shuts and the water starts running, they turn to each other.  
“Let’s hope all that wasn’t for nothing,” Steve murmurs. Though, he thinks to himself, even if Bucky doesn’t get the kiss he’s expecting, it was far from nothing. Bucky quirks a smile, and pulls him into a hug.  
“I’ll tell you about it tomorrow,” he promises as he leaves.

Somehow, though, Steve isn’t sure he’s looking forward to hearing about it.

XXX

As Bucky walks out the door of his own apartment, his mother fussing about his hair and straightening his jacket, as is customary whenever he has a date, he finds his mind preoccupied not by Anna, but by Steve.

Their kiss this afternoon didn’t go quite how he was expecting. He thought it would be strange, awkward, and nowhere near enjoyable. But it hadn’t been any of those things. He tells himself that it’s just because it was his first kiss. He supposes he can appease the small part of his mind that questions that tonight, when he takes Anna home.

He does his best to keep his mind off Steve while he’s out with Anna. She’s pretty enough, in the girl next door way, with red hair and dark eyes and a smile that all the boys, including Bucky, trip over themselves – and each other – to see. He takes her dancing, and then for dinner, before walking her home through the park at the end of their street. All in all, it had been a good a night, he just can’t help but be nervous about the impending kiss.

They stop outside her front door, about two floors down from the Barnes’ apartment.  
“I had a great time, Bucky,” she tells him.  
“Me too,” he agrees. And it’s the truth. “Maybe we can do this again sometime, if you want,” he adds.  
“That sounds nice.”

As with the last time he took her out, she leans forward first. He doesn’t put a hand on her waist, like he did with Steve this afternoon. The last thing he wants is to be accused of being inappropriate by her old man. Things have gone well so far, and the last thing he wants is to screw it up.

He touches his lips to hers, lightly. It only lasts for a few seconds, before he pulls away.  
“Goodnight, Bucky,” she beams at him.  
“Goodnight,” he agrees.

He waits until the door closes between them, before he walks towards the stairwell. His mother swarms over him when he opens the door, asking him how it went, whether he treated her well and if she would be meeting her anytime soon. He answers all her questions (“good”, “of course, mom”, “it depends on how the next one goes”). She mumbles something about how he doesn’t sound as happy as he normally does when he comes home from a date. He tells her it’s because they went dancing and it’s tired him out.

He wishes her goodnight, and heads to his room. His father is in the dining room, balancing the books for the store, and his sisters are sitting in the living room, listening to a radio show. He answers their questions, too, and says goodnight.

When he finally makes it to his room, he shuts the door, and sheds his jacket. He flops down onto his bed and stares at the ceiling. The kiss with Anna wasn’t anything like he’d been hoping, or expecting. It was pleasant, definitely, but not the way the kiss with Steve was.

If he hadn’t kissed Steve that afternoon, the chaste kiss shared two floors below where he’s lying now would have been much more enjoyable. But the kiss with Steve, Bucky has a feeling, would always trump everything.

Things between Steve and himself had always bordered on too close for best friends. Considering they’d known each other since as long as either of them could remember – Bucky’s first memory was of a play date between the two of them their mothers had set up when they were babies – people usually didn’t question it any further than a close, almost familial bond. Maybe Bucky _should_ have questioned it before kissing his best friend.

He knows it goes deeper than enjoying the kiss and he has no idea what to do about it.

XXX

Steve still isn’t sure what to make of the situation when he sees Bucky the next day. Neither of them mentions the kiss, and things are, thankfully, not awkward.

They’re back at the Rogers’ apartment before either of them mentions the date. Since it’s Saturday and they’ve both been at work since nine, neither of them have much more energy than to slump down against the bed in Steve’s room, and shrug off their jackets. It’s hotter than it was yesterday, and Steve’s thankful that he left the window open.

“So, how did it go with Anna last night?” Steve finally asks. As usual, he reaches for his sketchbook and pencil as he speaks. He flips to a new page, having finished the one of the factory last night during a bout of sleeplessness. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about what the kiss meant to him. He thought drawing might take his mind off it, but too no avail.

He begins to sketch the outline of the building through his window as Bucky talks.  
“It was okay.” He feels, rather than sees, Bucky shrug. “One of the better dates I’ve been on, if I’m honest.” Steve nods. He’s glad Bucky’s finally found a girl who he wants to see more than once, but it doesn’t stop the unfamiliar sting from shooting through his heart. He frowns, slightly, at the sensation. He can’t ponder what it means with Bucky here, but he files it away for later.

“She’s a nice girl. Pretty. The type I’d take home to meet the family.” Steve senses a ‘but’ coming.  
“So what’s the problem?” he asks, quirking his head slightly to the side to look at Bucky.  
“I dunno.” Steve looks directly at him, an eyebrow raised.  
“Don’t be dramatic,” he scowls. He doesn’t really want to deal with Bucky beating around the bush, as he has a tendency to do. Bucky frowns at him.  
“I’m not. I actually have no idea what the problem is. I kissed her last night, and it just didn’t feel right. Don’t ask me why, ‘cause it beats me.”  
“What d’you mean ‘didn’t feel right’?” Steve questions, his sketch momentarily forgotten. Bucky shrugs again.  
“I dunno. I guess it was – God this sounds cheesy – there was no _spark_.” He practically spits the last word. “I can’t believe I just said that. If I ever say anything like that ever again, shoot me, please.” Steve laughs and rolls his eyes.

“Well, you said you like her right?”  
“Yeah, but what good is liking someone if it doesn’t go any deeper than that?” Bucky counters. Steve shrugs and goes back to his drawing.  
“Why ask me? I’ve never had a successful date, let alone a girlfriend.”  
“You have to have liked _someone_ ,” Bucky insists.  
“Buck, I had my first kiss _yesterday._ The only person I remember clearly was Caroline Parkes in the second grade, and I don’t really think that counts.” Bucky sighs.  
“You’re right. It doesn’t.”

Steve nudges his ankle with the toe of his shoe.  
“Don’t be such a drama queen. I’m sure you’ll work it out.” Bucky grunts, but he doesn’t sound terribly convinced.

XXX

Bucky stays for dinner, like he usually does. He helps Steve with the washing up, so that Mrs Rogers can go to bed early. She worked a double shift at the hospital, since most of the other nurses are out with Tuberculosis, and as a result, came home exhausted.

Bucky leaves almost as soon as they’re done. Steve needs an early night, as does he, if he’s honest, and he needs to get his thoughts together. He won’t get much of a chance to think at home. His sisters are always louder on Saturday nights.

Saturday night has always been family night, which usually involves the four of them dancing around the living room. Sometimes his parents join in, if they have the time.

He walks home in the warm summer breeze, trying to clear his head of kisses and Anna and Steve. He reaches the apartment block in a few minutes; they only live a few streets away from the Rogers’. He walks up the stairs and is surprised when he almost runs into Anna.

“Sorry, didn’t see you there,” he murmurs, moving to the side so she can walk past him. He flashes her his most charming smile. She returns it without fault. She’s dressed far more simply than when they go out, in a simple sundress and light cardigan.  
“It’s okay. I’m looking forward to that date,” she tells him.  
“Me, too.” It’s almost true. He still needs to sort out his feelings before he even thinks about their next date.  
“Well, don’t wait too long.” She sends him another smile, and then she disappears down the stairs with a garbage bag in hand.

His smile as he continues to climb the stairs is light. He can’t help but feel like he should be beaming after an encounter with the pretty girl he’s going out with, but there’s too much going on in his head to feel too cheerful about it.

He reaches the front door without meeting anyone else. When he walks inside, jazz music sounds from the living room. His mother and father are sitting in the kitchen, drinking tea.  
“Did you have a good day?” his mother asks.  
“It was fine.”  
“How’s Steve?”  
“Fine, tired; it was a long day at the factory.”  
“And Sarah?” his father adds.  
“She’s fine, too. Exhausted though.” He relays the information about the hospital to them.  
“Go say ‘hello’ to your sisters. They’ve been dying to see you all day,” his mother commands.  
“Will do,” he agrees.

Even though he wants nothing more than to head into his room and sort through his thoughts regarding Steve and Anna, he greets his sisters with as must enthusiasm as he can muster.

They’ve already started their weekly tradition.  
“You started without me?” he asks, pouting at them. The youngest, Elizabeth, rushes over to engulf him in a hug.  
“How was work?” Rebecca, the eldest after him, asks.  
“It was fine,” he tells her. Ruth, the middle child, asks him if he’s going to dance with them.  He’s tempted to sneak away to his room, claiming exhaustion, but he has so little time to spend with his sisters these days.

Between all four of them being in school, Rebecca and Ruth’s work at the store and his work at the factory, Saturday nights and Sundays are the only times he really gets to see them anymore. He can’t refuse the request.

When Mr. and Mrs Barnes join in at eight thirty, Bucky sits on the couch with Rebecca. Liz and Ruth continue to dance around together, giggling like it’s the best day they’ve had in a while.

“I heard the girls at school saying you’re going with Anna Clarke from downstairs.” Rebecca tells him quietly. Though she’s younger than him, he often thinks that she’s far too wise for her age.  
“Yeah,”  
“She seems nice. Nicer than that Karen you took out a few weeks ago,” she makes a face once she’s finished speaking.  
“I guess.” Rebecca smiles, lightly, before she speaks again.  
“I figured since she’s the first one you’ve actually gone out with more than once, you must like her better than the girls you usually take out.”  
“I do. It’s just... I don’t know what it is, honestly. I guess I just don’t like her as much as I thought I did... But I’m not sure it’s that either, Bec.”  
“Don’t tell me you already fancy some other girl?” Disbelief coloured her tone.  
“No.” He thinks for a minute, then adds, “I don’t know. Maybe.” Bec rolls her eyes.  
“Of course you do. You’re you. You’re starting to get a reputation, y’know.”  
“I am not!” he denies.  
“Of course you are. You’ve been out with half the neighbourhood and Anna’s the only one you seen more than once.” Bucky frowns at her.  
“For your information, I’m taking her out again soon,” he tells her, smugly.  
“So you do like her?”  
“I think so.”  
“Well, if you change your mind, like it sounds like you might, actually break it off properly this time.”

He sits quietly with Rebecca for a while longer, watching his family as they dance and laugh, like they do every week. When the music pauses for a newsbreak at nine, he wishes everyone goodnight, and heads into his room. As he shuts the door, he hears his mother tell the girls it’s time for them to go to bed too, and Elizabeth complaining that Bucky got to stay out late last night.

He doesn’t bother to turn on the light as he undresses in the dark. He climbs into bed and stares at the patch of moonlight on the ceiling. He finally allows himself to sort through all the thoughts racing around his head.

Everything he told Bec was true. He knows he likes Anna. Bec was right; he hasn’t gone out with any other girl more than once. That should indicate that he feels something for her, but that kiss they’d shared just hadn’t felt _right_. But kissing Steve... That had felt more than right.

Maybe he does like Steve. He isn’t sure. He’s never _liked_ anyone who was the same gender as him before. But what could he do about it, anyway? Steve sure as hell doesn’t feel the same and he isn’t going to make a fool of himself trying to find out otherwise. And even if he does... Even if he does, they can’t be more than they already are. He could never introduce Steve as his significant other. It would ruin them both.

He realises that by contemplating this, he _must_ feel something more for Steve. He reinforces to himself that he can’t act on it. Ever. He might as well be back to square one, he thinks resignedly.

As he falls asleep, he supposes he should make that third date with Anna.

XXX

The Rogers and the Barnes sit together in church the next day. Elizabeth, Steve thinks idly as the priest enters the church, could very well be his sister. She inherited Mr. Barnes blue eyes, but is the only one of the family to have blonde hair. The rest have the same dark hair and eyes, except for Bucky and his father, with the same blue eyes as Liz.

The Clarkes sit on the opposite side of the church, and Anna flashes Bucky a smile when they enter. Bucky returns it, though not with as much as enthusiasm as he had before. Steve notices the exchange and his stomach gives a sickening lurch. When the priest requests that they stand, Steve tries to push it from his mind.

After the service, Bucky, Steve, Liz, Bec and Ruth stand by the gate as their parents talk to each other and, eventually, discuss the sermon with the priest. It’s not long before the girls spot some of their friends from school, and in few minutes, it’s just Steve and Bucky. Though Steve can’t help but think that things have changed somehow in their relationship, it’s only beneath the surface. It wouldn’t even be noticeable if they hadn’t been friends for so many years.

Steve’s just opening his mouth to ask Bucky if he was coming back with him and his mother, this afternoon, when Anna makes her way over.  
“Did you enjoy the sermon, Bucky?” she asks, standing on the tips of her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. She nods in acknowledgement to Steve, and then, he thinks, he might as well be invisible.  
“It was interesting. What did you think?”  
“Pretty good,” she agrees.  
“I was thinking we should go on that date sometime soon. Maybe next Friday?” Bucky suggests.  
“Sounds fine to me,” she agrees, with a polite smile.  
“I’ll see you then.” She kisses him on the cheek again, and goes to join her parents and sister outside the gates.

Steve ignores the flare of pain through his chest, accompanying a sickening feeling in his gut. He’s been trying to rid himself of his jealousy ever since Bucky told him how the date went. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem to be working.

He watches as Bucky turns back to him, a huge grin on his face. The jolt of sickness returns, but he pushes it away. He shouldn’t be thinking like this. He should be happy for Bucky, more than happy, ecstatic, that he’s finally found a girl that he not only wants to go on a second date with, but a third. But he can’t help it.

“D’you want to come back for lunch with us?” Steve offers.  
“If it’s alright with your mother.”  
“Of course. You’re always welcome, Buck,” Steve adds in earnest.  
“Thanks, Steve. You know it’s the same for you.” They exchange smiles.

Steve can almost fool himself into thinking everything is normal.

XXX

“Hold still. I can’t draw you if you keep moving,” Steve grunts. They finished lunch an hour ago, and Mrs Rogers has gone to take a nap before she leaves for her afternoon shift at the hospital. It’s just the two of them in Steve’s room. Bucky’s seen him draw portraits before, but he’s never been a subject; or at least, not to his knowledge. He knows Steve draws people sometimes without them posing, and he can’t help but wonder if he’s been the subject of one of them.

“Steve?” He gets a hum of acknowledgement in reply. “Have you ever drawn me before?” he asks. Steve pauses shading, and looks up from the paper. It strikes Bucky that his question may have been more personal than he realised before the words were out of his mouth.  
“Uh, maybe. I think I’ve drawn your family and I might have drawn you on your own once or twice.” His answer is accompanied by a faint tinge to his cheeks, and Bucky realises that he was right about it being a personal question.

They sit in silence again, and Bucky watches as Steve shades the lines on the page and fill out new ones. He’s always enjoyed watching Steve work, making places and people come to life on a page using a few lines. It could have been any afternoon with just the two of them.

“So, a third date with Anna, huh?” Steve says, quietly. Bucky doesn’t really want to have this conversation with Steve. After all the thinking he’s done, he’d really prefer to break it off with Anna. His connection with her has nowhere near the strength that Steve’s has. He supposes that’s to be expected; even if he’s known them both for the same amount of time, he’s always been closer to Steve. The only reason he’s still going out with her, really, is because he likes her more than the other girls he’s dated. If things could be different with Steve... He stops his thoughts there; he knows nothing good can come from thinking that way.

“You’re thinking awfully deep for a question I already know the answer to. Aren’t you looking forward to it?” Bucky blinks and looks back at Steve. He’d forgotten Steve had asked him a question.  
“No, it’s not that. It’s just...” He couldn’t find an answer for Bec, or even himself, how could he find one for Steve? “I just don’t know if I like her as much as I should by the third date.”  
“You do like her though, don’t you?” Bucky shrugs.  
“I like her better than any of the other girls I’ve gone out with,” he tells him truthfully. “I’m just not sure it’s enough.” Steve rubs at a section of the drawing with an eraser and begins to shade again.  
“Well, you’re not officially going together, yet. Have you thought about putting things on hold with Anna and seeing if things work out better after a break?” Steve suggests.  
“Oh, she’ll _love_ that. No. That would never work. I couldn’t look her in the eye again if I did that. And according to Bec, I’ve already got a reputation,” he adds.  
“So, you’ll either have to break it off, or make things more serious. She’ll be wanting some kind of commitment after three dates.”  
“I know.”  
“So?”  
“I guess I’ll see how things go on Friday and go from there,” Bucky decides.  
“Sounds like a plan.” Steve hides his face behind his sketchbook again, and neither of them speaks until the drawing is finished.

XXX

Steve looks at the drawing of Bucky. He’d lied, of course, when he’d told him he’d only drawn him once or twice. He’s drawn him more times than he can count, Bucky just hadn’t known about it. The one he drew yesterday is one of his better ones, even if he says so himself.

They walked home separately today, a rare occasion. Bucky had to run an errand for Mrs Barnes, but promised he’ll be over later, as is usual on Saturdays. He only had time before they left the factory to tell Steve that he needs more advice on the situation with Anna.

The entire thing is bugging the hell out of Steve. He has nothing against Anna. She’s a perfectly nice girl, and would be a good fit for Bucky. She’s the type of girl you take home to your parents, which, if things had gone well last night, Bucky would probably be doing relatively soon. Steve could even admit that she was pretty. But that’s exactly the problem.

She’s everything he can’t be to Bucky. Everything he _wants to be_ to Bucky. She’ll be formally introduced to the Barnes family as his significant other, something Steve wishes were a possibility for himself. One day, they’ll probably get married. Steve knows that can never be for him, if he were to have a chance with Bucky. He can’t help the absolute jealousy he feels every time she’s around.

He’s used to be invisible to people he’s romantically interested in, or could be romantically interested in. The problem is, he’s never been invisible to Bucky, and now that he is, especially in this way, he doesn’t know what to feel.

He sketches a portrait of his mother to calm his mind and pass the time. He’s been lucky this summer, he thinks, to have not been affected by any of the diseases going around. He was half expecting to contract the tuberculosis his mother’s been treating. But, to his and everyone else’s surprise, even his asthma’s been fairly settled.

He’s halfway through the outline of Mrs Rogers’ eyes and nose, when the front door rattles open. Bucky knows where they keep the spare key, and often uses it when he knows it’s just the two of them.

“Everything okay?” Steve asks him when he appears in the doorway of the bedroom. Bucky nods.  
“Fine; Mom just needed me to run to the butcher’s,” he adds. Steve nods, and watches as Bucky slides down onto the floor in front of him. They’re quiet for a moment as Steve fills in the irises of his mother’s eyes and shades out her eyelashes. He realises Bucky isn’t going to start the conversation, so he does.

“You seemed pretty keen to tell me about last night at work. What happened?” he forces himself to say. He’s surprised when Bucky shrugs.  
“It was fine. Not really any different than the last two. We had dinner and I walked her home. She said something about meeting her parents next time. I’m not sure if I really want to go that far. I just don’t think I like her enough to be committed to her,” Bucky concludes. Steve raises an eyebrow without looking up from his portrait. He fills in the nose as he says,  
“You should tell her that, then.”  
“I know.” Steve senses that isn’t all to the story.  
“What’s the problem then?”  
“I do like her. I just like someone else as well.”  
“Do you like her better than Anna?”  
“I think so. That’s the problem; I’m not sure. I mean, I’m pretty sure I do, but I just don’t know if they like me,” Bucky says.  
“I’m sure she does. I haven’t met a single girl who isn’t swooning over you.” He adds, _Even I am_ , but only in his head. “You should break it off with Anna, tell her the truth, and then go after this girl,” he says instead. He’s sure the jealousy will stick around when this new girl starts going with Bucky, but he tries to be happy for his best friend.  
“I’ll try that. Thanks,”

Steve shrugs and continues to shade his portrait.

XXX

Bucky resolves to tell Anna what he told Steve when he gets home. He walks slowly, aiming to catch her on the stairwell, like last week. He doesn’t see her, or anyone, on the way up to his apartment. He doesn’t want to knock on her front door to break it off with her, especially at the risk of getting one of her parents.

He stands on the landing outside his apartment for a minute, trying to plan the best course of action. He doesn’t really want to go any longer without telling her the truth, but he doesn’t want to barge into her home to do so. He decides that maybe he should take her for a walk, let her down gently, and heads back down the stairs.

He knocks on the door of the Clarkes’ apartment, and gets their youngest daughter, Jean. She smiles at him. He’s seen her a few times, between church, school and occasionally with Elizabeth and Ruth.  
“Hi, Bucky! I’ll get Anna for you,” she tells him, brightly.

She walks away, leaving the door open, and he hears her call her sister’s name. Anna appears around the corner, in a pale yellow dress and cardigan. Dark red curls fall around her shoulders, which she hurriedly pulls into a knot at the back of her head when she sees Bucky.  
“I wish I’d known you were coming, Bucky. We don’t have a date tonight, do we?” she asks, brown eyes wide with worry.  
“No. I was wondering if we could go for a walk.” He prays that she agrees. The last thing he wants to do is break things off on her doorstep. Her lips curl into a smile. Part of him is relieved, and part feels guilty.  
“Sure. Let me get my coat.”

Once she’s slipped her coat on, she links their arms together, and they head down the stairs. They walk in silence until they reach the park.

The leaves are starting to change from green to orange. Bucky thinks idly that Steve will probably want to paint the scene in a few weeks.

It’s just after dinner time, so the park is nearly empty, now. He stops them underneath a large oak tree, away from the few people feeding the pigeons.  
“I wanted to have a word with you,” he begins. She nods eagerly, and guilt sinks in his stomach. She obviously thinks he’s going to be suggesting commitment. “I’m not sure we should see each other anymore,” he tells her, honestly. Her face falls, and she loosens her grip on his arm, and looks towards the ground. “You’re a lovey girl, really. I just don’t think we’re right for each other.” He watches her, waiting for some kind of response.  
“Thank you for being honest with me. I wish I’d known before now, but I’m glad you told me before we got serious.” There’s a pause as they stand there, before Anna speaks again. “I should probably get back.”  
“I’ll walk you,” Bucky says out of habit. It’s ridiculous, he thinks, they live in the same building.

When they reach the doorway of the Clarkes’, Anna leans up on the tips of her toes and presses a kiss to his cheek.  
“I hope you find the right girl, eventually, Bucky.” Her words carry nothing but sincerity, and for a minute, he almost wishes the walk had ended differently. If he hadn’t kissed Steve, it may have, he realises.  
“Thank you. I hope you find the right person, too.” He waits until she’s inside and then he heads upstairs.

As he listens to the radio drama with his sisters, that night – a soppy romance, this time – he makes a decision to tell Steve sometime in the near future, the truth of why he’s chosen to break it off with Anna.

XXX

As usual, Steve and Bucky walk home from the factory together on Monday. Bucky had already told him about the break up on Sunday, and they’re both a little surprised at the small wave Anna gives them as they pass in the street.

They reach the apartment and head to Steve’s room, as they normally do. Bucky’s hoping, however, that the afternoon would be anything but routine.  
“I was thinking when I was at the park last night that you should come down with your watercolours sometime soon. The leaves are about ready to drop. It looks like something you’d want to paint,” Bucky tells him. Steve looks across the room to where Bucky’s still standing, in the doorway, one eyebrow raised.

Why had Bucky been thinking of him while he was breaking things off with Anna? He shakes it off. He’s sure it’d just been an arbitrary thought. Bucky had probably just remembered that Steve mentioned he wanted to paint fall trees a couple of years back.

“I’ll come over sometime. I’ve always wanted to paint a park in fall.”  
“You told me. It was a long time ago, though, I think,” Bucky informs him, confirming his suspicions. He finally takes a seat on the bed next to Steve. Steve picks up his sketchbook, and continues to work on the sketch of the neighbour’s dog he started late last night.

“Have you asked this girl out you fancy so much more than Anna?” he asks. He is quite curious to find out who’s upstaged the only girl Bucky’s ever taken out more than once.  
“No,” he admits. “I’m waiting for the right moment.”  
“Well, if you’re getting a reputation, like Bec says, you should probably hurry up before she can think better of going out with you,” Steve advises, pointing the end of his pencil at his best friend.  
“Like I said, I’m waiting for the right moment. I’m not even sure if my feelings are reciprocated.”  
“And I told you, everyone swoons over you. If they didn’t, I might even have a shot at this girlfriend you’re always telling me I should find.”  
“Well, I don’t want everyone to swoon, just them,” Bucky replies.  
“Who _is_ the mystery girl, anyway?” Steve asks. Bucky opens his mouth to respond, but doesn’t even get a syllable out when the front door opens and Mrs Rogers calls out to tell them she’s home.

Bucky gives him a weak, half-smile.  
“I’ll tell you tomorrow,” Bucky promises. Steve nods.

They get up to greet Mrs Rogers before she starts to wonder what they’re up to.

XXX

When they get back to the Rogers’ apartment after work the next day, Bucky makes sure to shut the door to Steve’s bedroom when they get in.

“I don’t suppose you asked the girl out during school today?” Steve asks him, picking up his sketchbook. Bucky sits down on the bed, against the wall. From the angle they’re both sitting, they’re out of sight from the window. He’s decided that today’s the day he’s going to tell Steve.  
“No. School wasn’t the right place,” he answers, carefully.  
“So you did see her?”  
“Of course.”  
“Are you actually going to tell me who she is? Or are you going to make me guess?” Steve says. This is the moment. He’s never going to get better chance, and he’s not sure if he can work himself up to it again. So he says it.

“You.”

Before Steve has a chance to process what he’s just said – past the shock that made him look away from his drawing, at least – he dives forward and presses his lips to Steve’s. It’s as good as the first, maybe even better, he thinks. He expects to Steve to push him away after the first few seconds, tell him he’s ridiculous, or disgusting, or _something_. But he never does.

Instead, he drops his pencil and pad, and wraps his arms around Bucky’s neck. Taking that as permission, Bucky lets his hands drop to Steve’s hips. Steve’s fingers curl into his hair at the base of his skull. After a few moments, Bucky moves one of his hands up from Steve’s waist so that he’s cupping his cheek.

There are a few more moments of this, until Bucky pulls away. He looks into Steve’s beautiful blue eyes. And, not for the first time, he wishes he could paint, just so he could recreate the colour.  
“Do you actually mean it?” The whisper is so incredulous, that it almost hurts. Bucky breathes a chuckle.  
“I just kissed you, punk. I think that counts,” he murmurs. Steve laughs, and it’s him who kisses Bucky this time.

XXX

A couple of months pass, and Mrs Barnes starts badgering him about why he isn’t going on dates every weekend like he used to.  
“What happened to that nice Anna from downstairs? You liked her,” she questions him, one evening as he folds the ironing for her.  
“It just didn’t work out, Mom. Nothing _happened._ ”  
“What about Susan? You liked her.” Bucky shakes his head.  
“There just aren’t any girls I’m interested in at the moment.” It’s the truth. But to keep her from worrying he adds, “I want a break anyway. Bec told me I’m getting a reputation for not committing, so after things didn’t work out with Anna, I figured I might wait a while before going out with anyone else.”  
“I’ve told Rebecca not to gossip,” his mother scowls.  
“Mom, it’s fine, really. I’m sure when the right person comes along I’ll know.”

He already does know though, he thinks as he piles the shirts on the dining room table. Maybe he always has.

XXX

It’s the first evening of fall, and even though there’s only a slight chill in there air, Bucky insists that Steve wear his winter coat.  
“I can look after myself, Buck,” he argues, scrunching his nose in annoyance.  
“I just don’t want you to get pneumonia like last year that’s all. Or upset your asthma,” he adds as an afterthought. Steve rolls his eyes.  
“I’ll be fine, Buck.” But Bucky notices he shoves his watercolours into his pocket.

They walk down to the park together, and Bucky wishes he could link their arms together, the way Anna had when they’d walked through here only a few weeks beforehand. _Maybe someday,_ he thinks, but he sincerely doubts it.

They sit together on one of the benches as Steve begins to outline their surroundings. There’s no one around, so Bucky let’s his head rest closer to Steve’s. Maybe, he thinks for an idle moment, that if he didn’t live so close to the park, he might even have been brave enough to kiss him.

But he’s content to watch Steve draw. It’s not long until Steve’s swirling the colours to match the dying grass beneath their feet.  
“You probably shouldn’t sit so close. People might get the wrong idea.”  
“Technically they’d be right, though,” Bucky mutters.  
“Well, I don’t particularly want to spend the night in prison, do you? How the hell would we explain to our mothers?” Steve murmurs, without taking his eyes off his artwork. Bucky sighs, and sits up.

“Did you want to come over for dinner tonight?” Steve asks, letting his brush fill in the leaves on the page. Not a smudge of paint overlaps his lines.  
“Do I even need to answer that?” Bucky replies. Steve smiles. His painting’s almost finished.  
“Probably not,” he admits.

Twenty minutes later, they’re walking back to the Rogers’ again. When they get in, Mrs Rogers isn’t back yet. Bucky sheds his blazer and Steve his coat. They share a chaste kiss in front of the doorway, pulling apart in case Mrs Rogers walks in and finds them that way. Steve’s hand lingers on the back of Bucky’s neck.

“I love you.” It’s barely a whisper, but Bucky still catches it. Somehow, he feels like he’s been waiting for these words his entire life, like this is the most important moment in his life. Maybe it is. There’s no hesitance in his voice when Bucky replies.

“I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> For reference Bucky is 16 and Steve is 15. Rebecca, Ruth and Elizabeth are 14, 13 and 12, respectively.
> 
> Ruth and Elizabeth Barnes are borrowed from the wonderful [tinzelda](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/tinzelda) and [Scappodaqui's](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/Scappodaqui) [Scrap Metal](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4620798). Thanks so much for letting me borrow them!
> 
> Thanks very much for reading!


End file.
